The Weight of Memory
by aehawthorne
Summary: After the team's failed mission to capture Chase, Felicity finds Oliver's bow on one of the tables that holds her computers when she returns from Helix, and the weight of the memories attached to it is so great that she cannot make herself move it.


When Felicity returned from Helix, she wasted no time, heading straight for her computers in the center of the bunker. She couldn't_ afford_ to waste time, especially when time was something Oliver might not have very much of. She mounted the steps of the platform and froze in her tracks. She stood motionless, unable to escape the sudden flood of images rushing through her mind of all the times she had watched Oliver set his bow in its case, sometimes slamming it when things had gone badly and his temper had gotten away from him, but always careful to set it down with its handle facing out, so that he could grab it quickly when he needed it again. Now it was laying on one of the tables that held her computers, crookedly, almost haphazardly, as if the person who had put it there hadn't really know _where_ to put it and had just set it on the nearest available flat surface.

"What is that doing there?" she asked, the sudden sharpness in her voice turning the question into a demand.

"Sorry, sorry," Curtis replied, his boots thudding against the platform as he raced to stand beside her. "I set it there because I didn't know where to put it. I didn't realize that you were particular about your space."

"I'm not," Felicity said. "But this doesn't belong here. It's supposed to be-" She cut herself off when she glanced over the railing of the platform and saw, once again, the mess Oliver had made of the rest of the bunker. She'd put the mannequin that held his suit back where it belonged, but hadn't had time to do anything else in the way of clean up in all of the chaos of the last twelve hours.

"Yeah," Curtis said, agreeing with the statement she hadn't made out loud. "Do you want me to move it?"

"No, I've got it," Felicity said, taking a step toward the table where Oliver's bow lay. She heard Curtis' footsteps retreat and wondered where he was going until she heard the grinding scrape of metal on concrete and glanced over to see him in the middle of righting Oliver's work table. Once it was upright, he noticed her looking and gestured to it as if to say _Here. This better?_ Felicity nodded. At least now it would be _close_ to where it was supposed to be.

Taking a deep breath, she curled her fingers around the handle of Oliver's bow. They didn't quite reach all the way, and there was a gap between her hand and the edge of the handle on either side. Of course there was- it was made to fit Oliver's hand, she herself had had it made to fit his hand specifically, and his hands were much bigger than hers. She took a moment to adjust her grip to compensate for the difference, but when she tried to move it, something stopped her. It was as if it was Mjolnir and she was unworthy. Or maybe it was the weight of so many memories that seemed to give it infinite mass. She looked to where Curtis was watching her with an expectant expression and shook her head.

"Forget it," she said. "Just leave it. It's fine."

"Are you sure?" Curtis asked, sounding skeptical.

"I'm sure," Felicity replied. In truth, she was sure of only two things- that it was most definitely _not_ fine, but that she wouldn't be able to move Oliver's bow no matter how much she tried. Without another word, she sat down at the nearest computer and set right to work, knowing that every minute that passed was another minute that Chase might be doing something horrible to Oliver, and the sooner they found him, the sooner they could rescue him from that torture.

_Felicity leaned forward toward the computer monitor in front of her, her favorite red pen jiggling between her fingers as she studied the footage playing on the screen. She was watching old security cam video of Oliver in the field, analyzing his every movement, every detail of his fighting style, pulling as much information from the footage as she could. At the same time, she had several windows open on her screen that contained information about different types of bows, doing her best to apply that information to her analysis of Oliver in the field to determine what type would best suit him and his particular style of archery. _

_To that end, she hit pause on the video, then rolled it forward a frame at a time, picking every single detail that she possibly could from that slowed down view. She reached over to scribble down some notes in the notepad beside her keyboard, realizing only then that she had already filled it with similar notes._

"_What are you up to?" John asked from behind her. She leaned to the side so he could see._

"_Ah," he said. Then, after a long silence, he said, "I don't think Oliver is coming back, Felicity" his voice heavy with regret._

"_Of course he is," Felicity insisted. "He has to."_

"_Felicity-" John began._

"_He's coming back," Felicity repeated fervently, cutting him off._

"Did you find anything with that thousand yard stare?" John's voice jerked Felicity back to the present. It had been two consecutive all-nighters since Chase had taken Oliver, and they were still no closer to finding him. Felicity was beginning to lose hope that they ever would.

"No, not really," she said. "I was just…" She trailed off, resting one hand along the curve of Oliver's bow, which was still lying on the table nearby.

"I'll tell you now what you told me then," John said, seeming to know by that gesture what memory Felicity had been lost in. "Oliver's coming back, Felicity."

"You don't know that," Felicity replied, fear making her voice come out in a hoarse, choked whisper.

"I _do_ know that," John insisted. "You know how?" When Felicity shook her head, he said, "Because I can see that you and Curtis are doing whatever it takes to find him, and I know that _you_ are not going to quit until you do. You're just like Oliver, Felicity- you never give up."


End file.
